


Roses And Daisies And All Kinds

by cookiegirl



Category: Little Shop of Horrors (1986), Little Shop of Horrors - Menken/Ashman
Genre: Canon Compliant, Chocolate Box Treat, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22553764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiegirl/pseuds/cookiegirl
Summary: Mr. Mushnik visits the Skid Row Home for Boys.
Relationships: Seymour Krelborn & Mr. Mushnik
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Roses And Daisies And All Kinds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [innie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/innie/gifts).

“As you can see, we have very happy children here at Skid Row Home for Boys,” the orphanage manager said to Mr. Mushnik, using a grand sweep of her hand to indicate the large, dimly-lit playroom that was the last stop on what had been a very short tour. The room was filled with young boys, most of whom seemed to be loudly fighting over a small array of decrepit toys.

“Mmm,” Mushnik said, stepping back sharply as a small child ran past him, almost barging into his legs. He was starting to think this had been a mistake. These kids were all shrieking, snot-nosed brats, and the idea of having one of them in his home didn’t seem as good a plan as it had yesterday. But then he remembered the dirty floors in his flower shop, the plants that always wanted watering, and the counters that always needed wiping. He had to get himself an assistant, and he was certainly not the sort of schmuck who was going to pay an employee when he could pick up free labor from the orphanage.

“Any of the boys catch your eye?” the manager asked, giving Mushnik a strained, overly-lipsticked smile as the level of volume in the room seemed to increase.

Mushnik scanned the room. There must be one boy here who wouldn’t be too much of a trial. 

And then he saw him, perched on the window seat at the back of the room. The kid couldn’t be more than six years old, with a dark mop of curly hair that looked as though it hadn’t been brushed for a while, and thick glasses that were held together on one side with sticky-tape. Unlike the rest of the boys, he was quiet, and was staring intently at a small, lonely-looking flower pot on the windowsill. The pot seemed to have some sort of half-dead plant inside it, its leaves withered and brown.

“What about him?” Mushnik said, pointing to the boy.

“Oh, Seymour? Yes, he’s a lovely little boy. Very...helpful. Very -”

Mushnik didn’t get to hear what else Seymour was, because the woman stopped speaking abruptly when the small boy leant over to look more closely at the plant and accidentally slipped off the side of his seat, ending up falling on his bottom on the floor. The child blinked, confused, then got up and climbed back onto the seat.

The manager gave a small, forced laugh. “He’s not usually so clumsy,” she said.

Mushnik rubbed his mustache and squinted. The boy now seemed to be holding a small plastic beaker over the plant pot.

“He’s helpful, you say?”

“Oh, yes. A great choice, Mr. Mushnik. Shall I get the paperwork ready while you introduce yourself to him?”

“Fine, fine,” Mushnik said. If it didn’t work out, he could always bring the kid back. The manager clapped her hands and strode off before he could change his mind. Mushnik made his way over to the window, trying not to get knocked over by any running boys as he did so.

“Hey, kid,” he said when he reached the boy, who was carefully dripping small amounts of water from the beaker into the plant pot. “Seymour, right? I’m Mr. Mushnik.”

The boy looked up at him from underneath that mop of hair, and his eyes seemed impossibly large. “Hello, sir,” he said solemnly.

“Is that your plant?” Mushnik asked, trying to sound friendly and interested.

Seymour’s lips turned downwards a little. “It belongs to the home,” he said. “But I’ve been trying to look after it. I don’t think I’m doing a very good job.”

Mushnik shrugged. “It looks fine to me,” he lied. “Say, kid, you wanna come home with me?”

Seymour’s big eyes got even bigger. “Home?” he said hesitantly, as if the word was foreign to him.

“Sure. You’ll like it. I have a flower shop.”

Seymour’s face lit up with a look of wonderment. “Flowers? Real ones?”

“Of course. You can help me with them.”

“I can?” The kid looked like he’d won the lottery. He bounced slightly in his seat. “Are there roses?” he asked, a little shyly. “And daisies?”

Mushnik snorted. “Sure, kid. There are all kinds of plants.”

“All kinds?” Seymour sounded like he was in heaven. “Can we - can we go now?”

“Well, there are papers to fill in -” Mushnik started, but the little boy was already holding out his hand to Mushnik. Mushnik wrinkled his nose, then steeled himself and reached down to take the small hand, surprised by how easily it fit inside his own. He felt an odd stir of affection, but stamped it down quickly. The kid would get on his nerves soon enough, he knew.

“Let’s go see about that paperwork,” Mushnik said. Seymour hopped down off the seat and followed him to the front office, holding tight to his hand the whole way.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Chocolate Box! :)
> 
> Thank you to thecarlysutra for beta-ing!


End file.
